


Chasing Ghosts

by ravensnwritingdesks



Series: Fantastic AUs [2]
Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: 1920s New York, Alternate Universe - Non-Magical, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Business Owner!Tina, F/M, Grindelwald is the Big Bad Wolf, Jewish Character, Marriage of Convenience - mentioned, Newt is on a mission, Past Character Death - Tina's parents, Scents & Smells, Werewolf!Newt, Wolf Instincts, family business, holding on to the past
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-15
Updated: 2018-08-12
Packaged: 2019-06-09 23:52:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 19,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15278970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ravensnwritingdesks/pseuds/ravensnwritingdesks
Summary: The man was here. Newt knew it, could feel it. Gellert Grindelwald, the werewolf he’d chased across half the globe by now. But where? That was the big question he’d come to find an answer to. That… and a solution to the problem he posed. By any means necessary, as he’d been told by the elders.He shuddered at the implication and took a deep calming breath – which he regretted immediately. New York City was even more of an onslaught to his senses than he had expected.





	1. Wednesday

**Author's Note:**

> Finally, the Fantastic Beasts Werewolf AU no one asked for! Oh okay, actually it was a few of you over the months since I posted that [Inktober ficlet](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12256143/chapters/28383748)... So here you go!
> 
> Before we start, a short explanation:  
>  The werewolf kind in this story is not the same we know from the Potter-verse. These werewolves are more the "shifting into wolf form at will" kind, no full moon required and not compulsory either. I deliberately chose not to go with the JKR canon because... well, they're a bit mindless unless Wolfsbane is involved, which doesn't serve the plot at all.
> 
> I hope you'll enjoy it anyway!

“Ey! Move it, man. There’s people here who wanna leave!” The man pushed past him with a grumble when he stopped short just before entering the gangway off his ship. Dismayed, apprehensive, cautious. New York City was even more of an onslaught to his senses than he had expected.

He disliked crowded places, towns, cities or even just a ship across the Atlantic. He’d spent the better part of the crossing on deck, with the fresh sea breeze filling his nose to wash away the taint of too many humans in too small a space. And the waves below had been a much more soothing sound to fall asleep to than the groans and snores of the men and women in the cabins around him. But in hindsight, he probably shouldn’t have done that.

As much as he had wished his cramped sea journey to end, the stink of the city before him was even more encompassing and unpleasant than the past five days aboard combined. As was the cacophony of voices, machines and general bustle of the big city. His most instinctive part insisted he retreat, return to where he had come from. But New York City was where the chase had led him… so this was where he had to go.

Newt Scamander stepped off the ship with as much enthusiasm as a skittish horse, ducking his head into his collar in an attempt to shut out as much of the sensory input as he could. It only helped so much, though, as he waited in line.

“Next!” Another step forward.

The customs official inspected him far more closely than the passengers before him. Newt sighed inwardly as he examined his passport, then interrogated him about his intentions in the city and searched his suitcase thoroughly. Looking for something to warrant the persistent feeling of danger that doubtlessly pricked at the back of his neck. The scent of anxiety was hard to miss to his finely-tuned nose. Newt tried his best to appear as non threatening as possible and finally the man returned his passport, having found no apparent reason to detain him any longer.

“Welcome to New York,” he grudgingly announced and waved him through.

Newt nodded in thanks and swiftly took off for the exit. Some humans were far more perceptive of his kind than others; this one wasn’t the first and he surely wouldn’t be the last to cross his path. But it was always better not to dwell too long around such people, for their comfort and his own.

The sun shone brightly high up in the sky by the time he left the hall at the docks behind and yet he had to pull his coat a little tighter around him to ward off the cool breeze. December in New York wasn’t any better than England, it seemed.

Five days. That’s how long he had to remain here at least before the next ship bound for South America left port. A hopeful secondary destination for his trip across the Atlantic… and one he could only travel to once this mission here had been completed. Five days in which to finally find Gellert Grindelwald, the werewolf he’d chased across half the globe by now.

The man was here. Newt knew it, could feel it. But where? That was the big question he’d come to find an answer to. That… and a solution to the problem he posed. By any means necessary, as he’d been told by the elders. He shuddered at the implication and took a deep calming breath – which he regretted immediately.

Away from the masses of travellers, the air did feel a bit less cloying. But the stench of the city still remained as strong as ever. He pinched his nose shut for a short moment, then fumbled for the piece of paper in his coat pocket. His hotel was only a short walk away… and yet it felt like a monumental task as he took the first step forward into the narrow streets of Manhattan.

 

* * *

 

The pencil scratched hurriedly across paper, adding one number here, another there. She grimaced as the figures summed up to a total she did not like. Too high, whereas the other side of the balance was not high enough. And there was yet another bill outstanding for the new, more fashionable fabrics Queenie had ordered. Tina massaged her temple, trying to counteract the approaching headache. This was not good.

“You see it, don’t you?”

The voice behind her back startled her. Jim had sneaked up on her, looking over her shoulder and into the books. Of course she saw it. Only a fool wouldn’t see and recognize the deficit of last week’s business. And the week before. And the one before that. The situation didn’t look great and hadn’t for a while now.

“Yeah,” she sighed, forgetting to even snap at him for the implied incompetence. “I see it. Same as most weeks.”

Jim Abernathy had been a part of her life since she could remember, a cousin from her mother’s side of the family and only three years older than her. He had barely finished the apprenticeship with her father when her parents had caught the Spanish Flu and died from it within a day of each other. She hadn’t yet been seventeen then.

Her cousin nodded gravely. “I don’t think you have much of a choice any more, Tina. Not if you want this tailor shop to survive and keep it.”

She scowled. But what kind of a choice was that? Keep your independence or keep the place that allowed you to be so independent in the first place.

“Can’t you think of any more relatives in need of a good suit? Or willing to help us out? Cousins, uncles, nephews...” He snorted. That was a no then.

Neither could she. It wasn’t like their extended families hadn’t already contributed, and most of them more than once even. _Those poor girls, trying to make a living…_ But that sympathy only ran so far. “There’s got to be another way, Jim. Maybe if we cut our expenses–”

The man laughed. “Cut our expenses? We’ll have no more paying customers left if we don’t go with what’s fashionable these days. And what’s in fashion this month seems to be out of it not three months later.”

He was right, as usual. They had already laid off all but their apprentice to cut costs and Credence quite literally worked for three meals a day and a place to spend the night. And rent was due in January, as well. She sighed in frustration.

“He likes you, Tina, that much is clear.” His hands came up to massage her tired shoulders. “And you could do _far_ worse than a man like him, if you ask me.”

“Just think about it,”Jim continued softly. “This might be the best offer you get. He’d be more than happy to let you continue on here. And you’re not getting any younger either, you see.”

Seething, Tina Goldstein closed the book with a loud snap. She owed a lot to Jim for taking over the daily business until she had come of age herself. It was only because of him that she and Queenie even still had this business to their name at all. But he was _not_ her father. He did not get to talk to her like that.

“Don’t you have a suit to finish, James?” she snarled.

Her cousin held up his hands in appeasement. “I was just saying, Teen… It’s not just you that you gotta think about here.”

With those words he retreated to his cutting table and resumed his work, leaving her alone with her miserable thoughts. _It’s not just you to think about…_ Frankly, she had thought of anyone _but_ herself for these past nine years. Ever since the day her happy little world of books and daydreaming had come crashing down, leaving her with parents to mourn and a young sister to take care of.

Marriage had never been part of her plans for life… at least not since then. She had been too busy with making a living and learning to run a business for such notions. But it was looking more and more as though marriage was the only option left to save her family business… and the happy memories of the years she had spent growing up here.

On the wall before her hung a photograph of her parents, young and hopeful and standing in front of their very own tailor shop; a long-held dream of her father’s that he had finally been able to fulfil with the turn of the century. That had been twenty-six years ago, with her nothing but a barely visible bulge on her mother’s stomach. _Mendel Goldstein, Men’s Tailor_ the window said – and still did. He had lived for his occupation.

Times had changed a lot since then, though. Basic tailors such as them quickly fell out of favour these days. Department stores, that’s where the average man of modest means went to buy his suits and shirts now. Cheap and produced for the masses rather than the individual. They couldn’t compete with that growing industry for much longer.

And Jim was right, she knew. Mr. Graves _did_ like her. That was really the only reason he even still came to _Goldstein’s_ for his garments at all. He’d all but told her so a few months ago. Much as she hated to admit it, there were far better and fancier tailors out there… and she was well aware that he could easily afford them, too.

But was she willing to sell herself for the survival of her father’s dream?

It wasn’t just that though, was it? This place was home to her and Queenie, full of memories from their childhood. Little notches at the door post, depicting how she had grown from a spindly little girl into a still spindly but tall woman. The nooks and crannies they had hidden in much to their mother’s dismay. She couldn’t just give it all up, see strangers move in here.

A loud whimper caught her attention, coming through the small window that let out into the alley behind the house. Grumbling, she went over to the back door and threw it open – to find an old dog sitting a few steps away. Tan fur, shaggy and ragged, whimpering for attention and some scraps of food. A street mongrel, just like poor Credence had described him to her the day before. He watched her from disturbingly two-coloured eyes.

“Get lost,” she growled, not in the mood for a gentler approach. She did not want that mutt anywhere near her business anymore, scaring away what few actual customers she still had left or snapping at them as well. “Shoo!” The dog didn’t move, though.

Tina took a step outside, waving her arms wildly. “I said _shoo_! Go away.” But the creature didn’t even flinch.

“Bother some other business, you stupid mutt! We got no more food to spare here.” This time she kicked a random pebble at it for emphasis.

That was something the beast did _not_ like.

 

* * *

 

The sun was close to setting when Newt stepped out of his building and into the noisy streets of New York. A few restful hours in his room had done him some good after the stressful journey, but now he felt the need to stretch his legs after the relative confinement of a ship for five days.

He took off to the left and set out to explore Manhattan, down the street and then to the right at the next intersection. He’d find his way back to the hotel, that much he was sure of. If not by his own sense of direction then by the map and address in his coat pockets. And his senses quickly needed to get used to his unfamiliar, uninviting environment if he wanted to get anything done by Monday, when the next ship could take him away to a more enjoyable excursion. One he had hopefully earned by then.

There was a reason people like him – werewolves – preferred the countryside. It wasn’t just the privacy it afforded, but the distinct lack of what was called _civilisation_ these days. Country folk usually lived spread out instead of stacked on top of each other, their smells and sounds easy to distinguish and identify – and to avoid.

He took a cautious sniff of his surroundings and grimaced. Not nearly as interwoven to form this thick blanket around his overwhelmed senses, either. A whiff of this, followed by a cloud of that the moment you took another step forward. It was distracting and, frankly, just this side of nauseating. Newt grumbled as his steps took him deeper into the city.

And the noise. Cars drove by, horns blaring at pedestrians and other drivers alike, their motors hammering away in his ears just like the machinery of the factories he had passed a little ways back. The people chattered all over each other, one voice as indistinguishable as the next in this city of millions. His inner beast wanted nothing more than to curl up in the quietest, most isolated corner of his hotel room until he could leave again. If this was humanity at its most progressive, he wanted nothing to do with it.

But Newt kept those instincts on a tight leash. There was a job to do and the chase had never taken him this close to his target before.

Grindelwald… he’d followed him around most of Europe and half the planet to New York. But the bastard had always been at least one step ahead of him. There was no easy way to find a man hidden among millions of other men, no matter how distinctive his looks. So, unpleasant as it was, Newt had to trust his nose to pick up the uncanny scent of wolf among the plethora of other smells. And the best way to go about that was to walk. All over the city. To sniff him out.

He had to hide somewhere, and wherever he went he’d leave his stink behind. There had already been a whiff of him near the docks earlier, but the trail had been old and lost just as suddenly as he’d come across it.

Newt forced back an instinctive growl. Grindelwald’s life mission was to expose their kind to humans, freeing werewolves from secrecy and the need to hide themselves. He had a ridiculous notion of the grandeur of their kind, but the truth was simple and different. These days a single man with a gun could stop any werewolf if he only aimed properly. He’d seen it himself, on the young and lost people Grindelwald had infected and turned without their knowledge. He would bite them at random and leave, letting them fend for themselves before the first change even happened. All in hopes to cause frequent disruption and enough exposure to force werewolves into the open.

So far he’d failed in his foolish plans… but so had Newt. Because despite his best efforts, he had neither caught the werewolf nor his victims in time to save them.

He could only hope to do better here in New York.

_Better make sure he hasn’t already struck and moved on to his next destination,_ his instinct chimed in. Newt agreed and turned his steps towards the closest train station. He’d check the main connections inland first and then work back to sniff out the docks around Manhattan.


	2. Thursday

Early the next day, he came upon another of his kind. The other wolf played an animal version of hide and seek for a while, ducking into stinking alleys and dashing across busy streets in the hopes of throwing him off his scent. But it was less than twenty minutes before Newt finally had the other man cornered against the brick wall of a dead end.

“What do you want from me?” the mousy man whined, cowering before him. “I don’t want trouble. I didn’t do nothin’!”

His meek demeanour and protective bearings told Newt just where he would have ranked in the hierarchy of a pack. Newt crouched down to the other man’s level before speaking. “I’m not here for you, but I need information. Have you noticed any other wolves in this city lately?”

“Besides you? Only one.”

 _Perfect._ “Where?”

“Up on Broadway. Weird fellow with white hair and strange eyes.”

Newt nodded. Grindelwald. “And when was that?”

“Listen man, I’m not interested in any of your pack politics. There’s a reason I live where no other wolf would go.”

“Answer my question!” Newt bit back a snarl, but only barely. The wolf inside him did not like being talked back to, no matter if it was a pack member or not. He took a calming breath and tried again. “Please. You can go on with your life undisturbed, but you need to tell me what you can about that fellow.”

The man mustered him from the corner of his eyes and nodded. “Alright. That was… a few days ago. Monday night, I think, near Times Square. I just saw him for a short moment, the way you do when you’re suddenly picking up your own kind close by, you know?”

Newt snorted and couldn’t help wondering who and what this man was hiding from. Wolves didn’t venture into a city like this just for leisure, bottom of the chain or not.

“He did what all you alpha kinds is… that look. Asserting dominance from a distance, yeah? And then he was gone. I haven’t been over there since then.”

“Monday night, Times Square,” Newt repeated. The man nodded in confirmation. “And you haven’t picked up on him since?”

A shake of head. “No, he hasn’t been to my part of town.”

That much Newt had gathered himself on their little chase. This one didn’t smell like he’d had any actual dealings with Grindelwald either, though. And he’d frankly lack the backbone to lie about it, anyway.

“Very well then.” He got up again and took a step back. “Thank you for the help. I won’t bother you any longer, but if you come across him again… please leave me a message here.” He handed the werewolf a slip of paper with his hotel address. “The name is Scamander.”

A nod. “What’s that fellow done anyway? Must’ve been more than a little tiff if you’re entering _New York_ to find him.”

Newt regarded him with an exhausted expression. “His name’s Grindelwald. He’s been biting random people… for the _greater good._ ”

The man stiffened. “I heard of him. I don’t want him anywhere near here.”

 

* * *

 

The sun was already far beyond its zenith as he entered into a little bustling part of town. Barbers, grocers and vendors of all kinds seamed the side-street that had suddenly opened up before him. The walkways here were busy with talking, laughing, haggling people, but not nearly as crowded or straining as other parts of the city. Oh, and there was a tailor’s shop as well. Newt chuckled.

The unexpected run-in with one of his kind this morning had distracted him from the pesky errand he had actually set out to run back then. He stopped in front of the simple window display, showing some of the more modern suit cuts and fabrics on offer. Nothing too garish, though. This would do just fine.

The place seemed woefully empty of customers, but that would only make this interaction a bit easier on him. The less people involved, the better. A little bell rang over his head as he stepped into the shop – and was hit with a new odour entirely. A fresh, beautiful scent that strangely reminded him of... home? Yes. Springtime at home, dewy meadows at dawn, delicate lilies-of-the-valley in the morning sun…

“Can I help you, sir?”

Newt started in surprise, eyes blinking open to find a woman standing behind the counter. He hadn’t even heard her approach in his apparent trance. Same as he hadn’t realised that his eyes had slipped shut. This city was making him numb and inattentive already, it seemed.

“I, uhm.” He swallowed. Despite the for once pleasing scent surrounding him, his tongue suddenly felt too dry to speak properly. And why was there a woman manning the counter of a men’s tailor shop? “I need braces.”

A frown. “Braces? I think you got the wrong place for that.”

“No.” He cleared his throat. “Suspenders, as you call them over here I think.”

The shop clerk chuckled and nodded, her short dark hair bobbing gently. “Ah. Now that is something I can help you with.”

She gestured for him to follow her to the other end of the counter, deeper into the shop. The underlying scents of numerous fabrics and dust grew stronger here. People were busy working in the back, two by the sound of it. “Anything specific you’re looking for? Colour? Material?”

“Uhm. Nothing gaudy?” Newt gave her an embarrassed smile. He’d never had to buy underwear from a woman before. “Something durable would be good, though. My other pair finally kicked the bucket this morning, so I’m in need of new ones to replace them.”

He heard her hum as she went through a large drawer of stock and took out a few packages to display. “I think any of these might work for you. We have the cloth ones here, all muted colours for you. Also elasticised.”

Newt stepped a little closer to view the choice of goods she had laid out for him. It was her, he noticed immediately. She was the one with that beautiful, most appealing scent. Not an artificial one, either. Just her.

She mustered him for a few seconds, then dove into the drawer for a few more items. “We also got the all leather variety if you’d rather prefer those.”

His ears pricked up as footsteps neared from the back room, easily distinguished from the rattles of the sewing machines. Another scent, sweet and powdery, wafted into his nose just before a second woman joined them in the front room.

“Oh!” The blonde smiled brightly at him. “A customer!”

The shop clerk nodded. “Mind helping out a bit, Queenie? This gentleman isn’t all that sure what suspenders to choose, I’m afraid.”

“Oh, sure!” And then it was him and the powdery sweetness, as the brunette took a step back.

 _Please don’t go!_ His inner beast yelped, but he kept it firmly on its leash and cleared his throat to mask any sounds that might have involuntarily slipped out. What was the matter with him today?

“No, I uh. I think I’ll just take those.” He gestured to the pair with a light and dark brown pattern woven into the fabric. They’d do well enough for his planned excursions _and_ go with most of his suits and shirts to boot. (Not that anyone besides him would actually see or appreciate that effort.)

“Yeah, that’s a good choice for you, honey!” And then the Queenie woman stepped back to let lovely Miss Springtime work the register for him.

Newt left the shop barely five minutes later, equally bewildered and entranced. The smells of New York City assaulted his nose immediately, but for once he didn’t take too much note. He’d never been confronted with a scent like hers, so _intense_ and… attractive. He looked over his shoulder and back to the place in question. Only werewolves usually had that strong a scent to him – but she was not a wolf. Definitely not.

Suddenly, he got a whiff of… something as he moved on. He stopped and sniffed again. _Grindelwald_ , his instincts supplied. The man had been here not that long ago. A day at most. He followed the scent back along the side street and into a narrow back alley where it only got stronger. Werewolf… and the cloying smell of blood. His inner beast recoiled. Someone had been attacked here, but whether by human means or canine he couldn’t say for sure.

A look around the alley didn’t reveal any more clues, either. Well, none but one. The only door from said backstreet smelled like Springtime and Powdery Sweetness and a few other human scents. It lead straight into the tailor shop workroom. But there had been no scent of wolf in there, nor smell of blood and injury.

Focussed on the hunt, he turned back around and tried to follow the scent of his quarry back to its source. But the trail didn’t lead him further than a block from the intersection before he lost it among the plethora of other city odours. Newt growled in frustration. He hated cities and the protection it gave his target.

Grumbling, he retreated back to one of the few green places New York had to offer: Central Park, nestled amid the bustling streets and towering buildings of midtown Manhattan. It was not the countryside, but it offered at least a little reprieve for his strained senses as he mulled over the new information of today.

Monday had been three days ago, the day of Grindelwald’s arrival in the city if Dumbledore’s information could be trusted, but the man’s intelligence had never led him astray before. The previous failures had been entirely on himself, being too slow on his travels or too slow on the uptake to make a difference. Grindelwald was still at large because of it, his unsuspecting victims shot dead.

He sighed and rested his head in his hands as he sat on a lonely bench. There hadn’t been any new trails on the docks or the train stations the previous evening and the scent he’d picked up at the tailor’s earlier hadn’t been older than a day. Grindelwald was _still_ in the city and he could have bitten any number of people by now.

Times Square, that’s where he had to go next. He’d been seen there in the bustling centre of the city. So if there was any chance of picking up on him, that was the most likely place. _Should have gone there earlier_ , a little voice snickered inside his head. Newt huffed but got a move on anyway.

The December sun was setting as he left the park and its sanctuary behind.

 

* * *

 

Tina closed up promptly at 6pm, locking the front door with a turn of her key. Hardly anyone would have been bothered if she’d done so five minutes early, ten. (Thirty.) But there was this little voice in the back of her head, nagging her with hopeful what-ifs. No one had come in last minute, though. It never happened.

“I know you got an admirer, Teen,” Queenie trilled from her perch on the counter, using her teasing sing-song voice and giggles.

“Oh, not you too!” Couldn’t they just leave her to her thoughts for a while? Just one day? She lowered the blinds with more force than strictly necessary. “I’m thinking about it, all right.”

Her sister’s giggling stopped as abruptly as they had started. “Thinking ‘bout what?”

Tina huffed. Did she really have to spell it out? “Mr. Graves, of course. Jim sent you to sweet-talk me before tomorrow, didn’t he?”

She moved to store away the suspenders that her only customer today hadn’t been interested in. But at least he’d bought _something_ , even if he’d been in a hurry to get out of here very suddenly.

“I was talking ‘bout that Brit earlier.” She frowned. “What about Jimmy and Graves, though? Something you’re not telling me?”

Tina shook her head. Nothing that needed to concern her little sister, at least. A sudden pang went through her leg as she turned to head back to the workroom, and she fell down onto a nearby stool with a hiss. She clutched at her calf and gently massaged it.

Queenie was beside her immediately. “How’s the leg?”

Burning, throbbing, bothersome were just a few adjectives that came to her mind. “It’s fine, Queenie. Just a cramp.”

“Let me see.” Tina huffed as her younger sister started unlacing her boot to remove it. Queenie could be very insistent once she had picked up on something… and there was no way to make her stop in her pursuit until she’d gotten a look. She peeled the stocking away herself to let her have a look beneath the bloody bandage.

“Hm. Doesn’t look too bad,” she announced with a frown. “But I’ll go get the Listerine anyway. Better safe than sorry.”

It was only when her sister was gone that Tina dared to have a peek herself. The wound really didn’t look as bad as she had thought, especially considering the pulsing twinges and heat she felt occasionally. Tina frowned. It had happened only yesterday. Was it really supposed to be this far healed already?

A few dabs of the antiseptic solution and a new bandage later Queenie seemed satisfied. She was just as much a caring person as their mother had been. “There, this will be healed up in no time. Now, what was that thing with Graves and sweet-talking again?”

She blinked at her sister in confusion before her brains had caught up. “I told you, it was nothing.”

Queenie scoffed. “Don’t you lie to me, Adinah Esther Goldstein. You wanna try that again? ‘Cause you don’t get this kind of worked up over nothing.”

Something inside her flared up at the order. When had her sweet little sister begun to turn her own interrogation tactics against her? But Tina quickly pushed her temper down again. Lashing out wouldn’t help anyone.

“He might be our only chance to keep this place,” she admitted in a grumble.

Queenie chuckled. “What, do you want Graves to spend even more money on new suits? I think we’ve raised his rates twice this year and the man didn’t even blink.”

She sighed. If only it was just that. “We’d need more than an additional suit or two on his dime to keep this place afloat, Malka. Much more.”

“Oh.” As predicted, the use of her given name stopped any attempt at humour in her sister. “You’re thinking ‘bout a special kind of suit, then.”

Tina snorted. She was sure he had something appropriate to wear already if it should come to that. “No need for a special order. The tails from last month’s order would work well enough, don’t you think?”

Queenie bit her lip. “Do you even like him? Or know anything about him, for that matter?”

“He’s rich and he likes me. According to Jim, that’s all I need to know before throwing myself at him.”

Her sister grimaced. “Teen… Are you sure you want to go there?”

She took a look around the shop. Everything here was still the way she remembered it from her childhood: the counter and shelves, the windows with their writing, the cutting tables and the huge sewing machines in the workroom hadn’t changed places. And then there were racks and racks of unused fabrics against the walls. Racks that had been hung with finished and unfinished clothing when she was little.

“No,” she whispered and stood, leaving the room and her sister behind.

But what other choice did she have? She had nothing else to fall back on when this place inevitably closed down. No sweetheart to take care of her like Queenie, no actual trade to find work in like Jim and Credence. This business was all she had to call her own and make a living, poor as it was. She had nothing else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You may have noticed that I chose to change the sisters' names around a little for this... It only seemed appropriate, seeing as no Muggle in their right mind would call their child Porpentina in my opinion. Since we're talking about Jewish characters here, that is where I got the inspiration from.  
> \- Tina's name, as you already saw, is Adinah. Tina for short, since she finds "Adinah" far too fancy for someone _plain and simple_ like her.  
>  \- Her sister is called Malka, which actually translates to "queen". Hence the fitting nickname Queenie.


	3. Friday

No new messages waited for Newt when he left his hotel, merely hours after his late return. The night had been long and gruelling, but at least the efforts hadn’t been for nothing. A smile tugged at his lips. He was closer to his target than ever… because he’d found the lair of the big bad wolf.

His evening trek around Times Square had indeed yielded a trail for him to follow, a day old at least, but pungent despite the crowds of people, easy to make out. The scent had led him underground into the tunnels of the New York subway and there, in an abandoned part of the system, he’d found what could only be described as the wolf’s den.

Ingenious, he had to admit and his inner beast agreed. At least in that particular part of the subway tunnels it had been wonderfully quiet. No humans, no machinery, no more strain on his ears. Only the smell had left something to be desired, but after the clamour of Times Square that was a small price to pay. (Even if it hadn’t been Grindelwald’s hide-out, he would gladly have stayed there for a while before continuing his hunt.)

A suitcase, a pillow and a few books, that was all he had found in the hideaway. Reeking of the man himself, of course. And his clothing, folded up and put in a neat pile atop the case. Newt snarled at the memory. Of course he’d roam the city in his wolf form. It was much more unassuming than his human appearance, after all. He had seen it only once before, but by all accounts Gellert Grindelwald could pass as a mongrel dog more convincingly than any other werewolf. And that was what made his plan so easy to pull off… there were always people willing to help out a poor, whimpering dog in the streets.

A yawn escaped him. Newt hadn’t gotten more than three hours of sleep before the constant barrage of noises made rest impossible again. He’d remained down there in the tunnels past dawn, watchful and listening for any sign of his return. But contrary to his expectation, Grindelwald hadn’t come back to his lair last night.

_Maybe we should check the kennels_ , part of him supplied, causing Newt to chuckle. What an ironic end would that be for the _great_ Gellert Grindelwald. Certainly one he deserved with all those lives he’d ruined…

_Your life isn’t ruined though_ , his inner beast added. Very chatty this morning. But no, while that man hadn’t _ruined_ his life… it wasn’t what he had hoped and wished for either.

His stomach growled loudly. Food did seem like a good idea, even if his appetite still left a lot to be desired. He hadn’t had any sustenance since last night and he wasn’t sure a sausage link in bread even counted as a full meal.

The mouthwatering scent of sweet and savoury goods filled his nose as the door of a bakery opened next to him. A woman walked out carrying a delicious-looking loaf of bread. Newt followed his instincts and went inside to take a look at the displays. Everything in there looked (and smelled) delicious enough to devour on the spot.

“Morning, sir.”

The man behind the counter, previously chipper and lively, stared at him with widening eyes as Newt looked up at the greeting. Heart thumping wildly, a sheen of sweat formed on his brow not long after. Fear. The man was afraid of him.

“What– uhm. W–What can I get you?” His voice cracked slightly at the question.

Newt averted his gaze and turned away. It was the scent he gave off, he knew. Predator. Threat. This man was another one of those humans too perceptive for their own good, even more so than the customs official at his arrival, it seemed.

“Nothing,” he sighed. “Thank you, I’ll go.” He turned to leave. There was no reason for putting either of them through this, not with the variety of other bakeries, delicatessen and restaurants to choose from here.

“Wait.” Newt stopped at the door, flabbergasted. Did this man really just ask the predator in his house to wait? “You’re not… not like the other one. Are you?”

“The other one?” Newt frowned, curiosity piqued. There was no scent of werewolf in here.

“Uh huh. Tall fellow. Spiky white hair. Strange eyes. Very easy to anger.”

His temper flared at the comparison. “We’re the same, but I’m _not_ like him.” And that had probably been too much to reveal to the human already. He closed his eyes and calmed the beast within. The lack of sleep had caused him to loosen that leash a bit too much this morning, it seemed. “Where did you see him?”

The shop assistant – no, baker – pondered. “Broadway. Monday night, after I left the movies with my girl. That guy gave me one hell of a fright, I tell you.”

Newt sighed. Monday night on Broadway, again… why couldn’t he have seen Grindelwald last night? This morning? It would have helped him so much more. “Thank you.”

But the man had regained his bearings by now. “What are you?”

“ _Different,_ ” Newt spat out. And that was as much of an explanation he was willing to give.

“Huh. But a hungry ‘different’, I’d wager.”

Did the man really just laugh? He still gave off the scent of fear, but less so than before. Newt turned around to face him and found him leaning on the counter, still chuckling to himself at the joke. “Come on, no need to scare the crap out of another shop girl. I’m Jacob, by the way. Jacob Kowalski.”

“Newt Scamander.” The reply had been automatic, but it made the man smile.

“Right. How about a paczki, then, Mr. Scamander? They’ve just come out of the oven.”

His stomach growled loudly in answer. If those were the ones smelling deliciously of orange, he’d definitely have more than one.

 

* * *

 

Queenie was suspiciously absent that afternoon, when Mr. Percival Graves was scheduled to come in for a last fitting on his order: two suits and a number of shirts to go with it. That man must have a lot of closet space… or discarded his bespoke garments within a few months of wearing them. Not that she would complain much if he did. Much as she hated to admit it, his orders were the only thing that had kept the sisters in business for the past year at least.

She looked up as the doorbell rang, announcing the expected customer’s arrival. Right on time, as usual.

“Miss Goldstein. Good afternoon.” The man inclined his head in greeting as he entered the shop, giving her a warm smile.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Graves.” He _did_ look very handsome, especially for his age. Which made her wonder why he was still a bachelor in the first place. She did her best to not let those thoughts show, though. _Smile, Tina._ “How are you doing today?”

They went through the usual small talk, filling time while essentially saying nothing. Queenie would have been able to charm the socks off him doing just that, but Tina was lacking her sister’s gifts in that department. She felt incredibly awkward giving him so much more attention than usual. But she had made the decision to… at least try. Try and see what would come of it.

It took her a moment to gather her courage, but she finally utilized a lull in the conversation to take that step further. “You know, you’ve been coming here for a while now, Mr. Graves. I think you should finally call me Tina.”

He chuckled, eyes crinkling softly as he inclined his head in acceptance of her offer. He seemed pleased. “Then I must insist you call me Percival.”

Tina gave him a smile. Percival. She had known his first name from the checks, of course, but a semi-formal introduction had still been missing. “Well then, _Percival_. We’ve completed your order, of course. Jim is probably waiting impatiently in the dressing room for your final fitting.”

“No doubt about that. He is more of an impatient kind, isn’t he?” One more smile, this one strangely a little more bashful than before. “Thank you, Tina.”

And then the man vanished behind the wooden door of the dressing room to see how well their tailor work had been executed this time. She breathed a sigh of relief. Step number one had been successful – creating more familiarity between them.

But she still wasn’t sure if she should continue. For probably the first time in her life, her mind and instincts were caught on opposing sides in a vicious tug of war… neither dominating, neither ready to give up. One half wanted her to do what was necessary, the other told her to stop, financial consequences be damned.

She didn't know how to deal with this situation. At all.

 

* * *

 

Newt grumbled as he walked the busy streets of the city. He’d wasted the better part of his day along the shores of the East River. It had been Mr. Kowalski’s idea to look beyond the island of Manhattan as well, and so he’d crossed one of the bridges to try his luck in the other boroughs of New York. But what had started out as a hopeful endeavour turned into a futile one within hours, and he soon realised that Grindelwald wouldn’t bother venturing so far. Not when Times Square and Broadway, the liveliest parts of the city, were right above his lair.

The subway ride had been an experience for him… one he didn’t care to repeat any time soon with all the screeching metal and humming electricity around him. But it had been the fastest way to get him back to where he’d located the freshest trail of his quarry so far. The narrow alley behind the tailor shop.

How lucky he had been to seek out that one specifically of all the tailors in New York. His inner wolf kept quiet, not rising to the bait. He couldn't shake the feeling that luck had only played a minor part in it.

The side-street was strangely deserted this afternoon, but it made tracking a little easier. Grindelwald’s scent in the alley was fading quickly now as someone had taken the time to sweep and clean the area since yesterday. But nevertheless he tried one more time to follow the trail… and again failed miserably at the next street corner. One of the beggar children with a hat in his hands watched him curiously as he walked all over the place, trying to sniff out a scent that did not want to be found. He tossed the boy a coin and winked before hastening back.

_Be more careful_ , his inner companion warned him. But who would believe a child’s story of a madman sniffing around anyway?

His feet stopped once more at the window display of the tailor shop. _Mendel Goldstein, Men’s Tailor._ Maybe he could take a few minutes off his chase and see if she was in… a little whiff of home would be nice. He could get another pair of those braces, just in case… He shouldn’t travel the wildest parts of South America with only one pair in perfect working order, after all. If he ever got to find that damn menace of a wolf, that was.

The bell jingled over his head as he entered, once more surrounding himself in that nice scent of fresh greens and lily-of-the-valley. Today he was not the only customer though. The lovely scent of Miss Springtime was heavily mixed with another, and not the powdery sweetness of the other woman. Something masculine… as should be expected in a men’s tailor shop.

Across the counter, she smiled at a middle-aged man in a bespoke suit, wearing expensive-smelling cologne and the stink of cigars on him. One of those career types from the financial district, no doubt. But his voice was deep and pleasant to listen to at least.

“Thank you, Tina. A pleasure as always.” So that was her name… Tina. It fit her, simple but beautiful. “I’ll see you on Monday, then?”

Tina blushed, but nodded, all too eager in her reply. “Yes. I’ll see you on Monday. Percival.”

Something inside him churned at the short exchange. They were on a first name basis, obviously. Familiar with each other. And meeting on Monday. He didn’t like it. Him. Yes, _him_ in particular.

The man, Percival, passed him with a curd nod and left the shop and his stink behind. Newt had a hard time trying not to growl at him. Something of his displeasure must have shown in his expression.

“Please don’t tell me you want to return those suspenders from yesterday.”

Newt quickly schooled his features and resettled them into a smile. “Uh, no.” The relief on her face spoke volumes. “In fact… I could do with a second pair. Before the other old ones give up on me as well. Knowing my luck, that will be at the most inopportune moment.”

Tina chuckled. “What, you don’t have tailors in London? Or department stores?”

Newt hummed, strangely enamoured with the banter she gave him. “We do. But I’m en route to South America and I doubt there’d be any department stores where I’m headed.” At least he hoped so. There were only so many places without the stinking traces of human civilisation left.

“South America, huh?” Tina had already moved into the back, rummaging around the same drawer as yesterday.

“Yes, the rainforest to be exact. I’m a naturalist, you see. I plan to hunt down for some rare kinds of plants there.” Not a lie. That _was_ his official occupation and reason for travel. A perfect excuse to spend months and months in the wilderness, where he could just be himself and by himself. Why he had felt the need to tell her, though, was another question to ponder.

“Uh huh.” A grin. “So, same ones as last time or would you like something different today?”

“Uhm.” He managed a smile. “I think I’d like to see the selection again.”

His thoughts had been rather elsewhere yesterday, if he was being honest. Not that he fared much better today, by the looks of it. Her scent was a marvel and he couldn’t help adoring it. Barely a minute of being alone with her and his strained senses had calmed already, awash in the fresh aroma of spring. He didn’t want to leave.

"So, which sort do you think is actually better?"

Tina gave him a small smile... and launched into a short lecture.

An aura of baked goods and powdery sweetness hit his nose as the doorbell chimed behind him. “Teenie, I thought you’d have closed up by now! It’s getting dark soon and we still gotta–”

A sigh from behind the counter. “We still got a customer here, Queenie.”

The tone of mild annoyance was hard to overhear, causing his inner beast to softly whimper in reaction as he ducked his head. Annoying her was the last thing he'd wanted to do... He should have wrapped this up instead of prolonging his stay, drawing his decision out with numerous questions.

Newt turned to find the blonde woman behind him – clinging to the arm of Mr. Kowalski from this morning.

“You!” the baker uttered in surprise and nearly dropped his tray of breads.

He moved his gaze back towards the selection of goods. “Oh. Hello, Mr. Kowalski.”

Tina frowned at him. “You two know each other?”

He swallowed. “I, uh. I visited his bakery only this morning.”

There were far too many people around now for Newt to not feel crowded. Tina, Queenie, Mr. Kowalski and the two men quietly milling about in the backroom. So many scents mixing, so many sounds suddenly washing over him. All he’d wanted in coming here was to bathe in the sweet aura of Springtime for a while before diving nose first into the city again… not this.

His head began to hurt. “You know what, I’ll just take those over there.” He pointed in the general direction of something greyish. “And then you can close up. Sorry for bothering you so long.”

“Hey honey–” The blonde was now right beside him. “–are you feeling okay?”

“Fine,” he bit out as Tina moved to ring him up.

“If you say so.” Her tone made it clear she didn’t believe him. Her closeness didn’t help him either, though, as the sweetness was nearly overwhelming. He took a step aside, nearly stumbling over his own feet.

“Say, Mr. Scamander–" The baker sounded a tad worried even to him. "–did you have anything to eat today since my paczkies this morning?”

A blush rose to his cheeks as he clung to the edge of the counter. “No.” Once again, he’d been too focussed on the frustrating search – and too put off by the odours around him – to care much for food.

In front of him, Tina hummed in deep disapproval. “Well, that's no good. We can squeeze one more in at the table tonight, unless you’d rather not share a meal with people like us… Mr. Scamander?”

“People like you?” A frowned creased his brow. What was she talking about?

She huffed a laugh. “Jewish people. I thought the name on the window would have given that away.”

“Oh.” No, he really hadn’t made the connection. “No, I don’t mind that.” The more interesting question was if they would still want to share a meal with him if only they knew what _his_ people were.

“Well, then you’re welcome at our table. Dinner will be in about half an hour. Just follow those two upstairs and wash up.”

Newt frowned, but did as he was told. It was only upstairs, locked in a cramped little washroom when the situation caught up to him. Had he really just accepted an invitation to have dinner with her? Yes. Yes, he had. His inner beast preened at the thought, causing him to smile at the warmth blooming in him. Suddenly the idea of food didn’t seem so off-putting after all.

The hunt would just have to wait for an hour or two.


	4. Saturday I

After the unexpected dinner invitation, he’d taken to the underbelly of New York City, following the smell of alcohol and drunkenness to unearth a number of speakeasy establishments around the city. But his efforts had yielded nothing. No one had seen Gellert Grindelwald, despite his rather unique appearance, and no one could tell him if there had been any feral _dogs_ randomly biting people.

In the third place he visited, he’d run into the wolf from the day before again. Ralph, he now knew. They’d exchanged a look across the room, then a few words by the bar. The man still couldn’t tell him anything new with regards to his target, but he had directed him to a few more places to try and ask around for information. Not that it had helped much.

This morning had taken him back to the subway tunnels by Times Square, but nothing had changed there either. The scent was dwindling, so Grindelwald hadn’t been there in a while. The same went for the docks and train stations of Manhattan: not a whiff nor a sign of the man he was looking for.

It was frustrating, to say the least. Grindelwald seemed to have dropped off the face of the earth and Newt returned to his hotel room around noon feeling like a failure. It had been nearly five days now since that man had stepped foot into New York. More than enough time for him to go about his business, more than enough time for any victims to go through the transition. Anyone bitten would soon be thrown for a loop by the physical _changes_ as well.

_Probably should go and look out for them instead_ , he mused. But that posed another problem: you couldn’t identify a bitten human in transition from any other injured human. Not until their first change into wolf form, at least.

And someone _had_ been bitten in that back alley behind the tailor’s. Blood from an injury at the same place Grindelwald had been, that couldn’t be a coincidence. But he’d been to the tailor’s, even had dinner with the people working there. No one had seemed injured as far as he could pick up on, nothing besides the usual little cuts and pricks of the trade at least.

He sighed, flopping back against the pillow of his bed.

And then there was the mystery of Tina Goldstein – as she had finally introduced herself to him last night. What made _her_ so intriguing? How was she so appealing to him? He had a hard time concentrating on dinner conversation because she had been sitting right across the table from him. He’d had an even harder time saying goodbye, as his inner beast insisted he should stay just a little longer, maybe have just another piece of that delicious bread Mr. Kowalski had brought.

Newt would have given in if it hadn’t been for the pressing matter of finding Grindelwald. Even if Tina clearly had chosen her mate already… they all talked about it during dinner. Percival Graves. Rich, unmarried, infatuated with the eldest sister. Apparently she’d finally agreed to give him a chance that afternoon.

_It’s wrong,_ his instincts still insisted. But who was he to make decisions for a woman he barely knew? And who was he to deem himself the more eligible choice between them anyway? Not with his affliction. (And since when was he on the lookout for a mate of his own anyway?)

Newt turned and buried his head in the pillow, drowning out the last of his heightened senses for some much needed reprieve. His head hurt. But this time it was not from hunger or the bustling city around him.

 

* * *

 

The end of Shabbos hadn’t come soon enough for Tina. A fix day of rest and no work was important, but despite Queenie’s best attempts at distracting her the Saturday had left her far too much time alone with her thoughts. Books and games couldn’t distract her much either and so she had been back at the workshop right after Havdalah, trying to occupy her mind with more useful things than mulling over one dilemma and daydreaming over another.

She sighed. Contrary to Queenie’s numerous jibes, those daydreaming moments hadn’t been possessed by a handsome man of wealth. No. Someone infinitely more interesting had occupied her thoughts and she couldn’t even say why. Instinct, that was the best explanation she had, since that previously dormant part of her suddenly seemed to have become so much more lively in the past days.

Mr. Scamander hadn’t even been a demanding guest, but was happy to stay in the background as they recited their blessings and shared the wine, content to speak only when spoken to. Yet, her eyes and focus had constantly been drawn back to him. She shouldn’t have invited this traveller to join them for dinner… no matter how much disapproval it would have earned her from the others. It didn’t help her dilemma at all.

_Oh, this is all so balled up!_ How was she supposed to face Percival Graves again on Monday, having wasted quite a big part of her weekend daydreaming about another man? And yet, that face with green-blue eyes and a soft smile wouldn’t leave her alone. Those eyes especially… there was something in them. Something she hadn’t managed to decipher but sent tingles down her back at the mere memory.

He would be in town for a few more days, the man had revealed. And yet, seeing him again did seem rather unlikely. Not unless he found himself in sudden need of yet another pair of suspenders, at least. And wouldn't that be great... the shop hadn't seen that much business in a while. 

The door knob jiggled, a low sound but too distinctive to ignore in the otherwise silent room. The noise was followed by a series of soft clicks as someone clearly picked the lock of the back door. Tina silently slid opened a drawer of her desk, picking up the old revolver she had hidden away there a few days ago. She turned off the small lamp as well, drenching the room in darkness as she trained the weapon at the door. Her heart beat wildly, but her hands thankfully remained steady.

It finally clicked open and a shadow entered the room, swiftly closing up behind itself. And then, silence. No swish of fabric, not a single step taken on the creaky floorboards. He seemed to wait right behind the door.

“Who’s there?” she finally demanded, unable to stand the nerve-splitting tension any longer.

“Shhh.”

She cocked the gun, letting the man know she was not unarmed. “Who are you?!”

“Hush, please. I can’t have them find me.”

She knew that voice, British intonation and a soft lilt to it. The image of a tousled head of hair and a blue coat rose to her mind again, merging with the face of her daydreams. Newt Scamander.

“Mr. Sca–?”

Feet clattered loudly on the pavement outside the back door, voices uttering commands. “He’s got to have come down here! You three, left. You two follow me to the right. He can’t be far.”

Tina involuntarily held her breath until the imminent danger was over and the people had passed out into the main street again. Police, possibly. An equally relieved exhale sounded from the other side of the room before the silence returned.

“Thank you.” The man moved forward now, floorboards creaking softly under his weight. “You can put the gun away, Miss Goldstein. I’m not here to hurt you.”

And for some unfathomable reason she felt compelled to do so, storing it in the drawer of her desk. She brought the lamp back to life as well and truly, a mere five paces in front of her he was, hand raised to shield his eyes from the sudden unexpected light.

“Mr. Scamander.” He’d managed to navigate the room without bumping into a single table or stool.

The man gave her a wry smile, there and gone again. “I’m sorry for the intrusion, but I–”

“You needed a place to hide,” she finished for him. That much had been clear. /p>

He nodded. “Would you mind if I… stayed. Just for a little while.” He looked back towards the door, sighing. “I’m in a bit of a pickle here.”

Tina bit her lip. Truth be told, she hadn’t pegged him as the criminal type. But something in her insisted it was the right thing to do. _Help this man out._

She nodded, trusting her instincts over her mind on this one. What an odd thing to do for her. “All right. You can have a seat over there.”

He looked utterly relieved at her choice, quickly moving to where she had gestured. She watched him settle down before turning back to her desk and mull over her non-existent business again. It took Tina a few minutes before she realised that having him there didn’t alarm her nearly as much as it should have. Frankly, his company was rather nice... soothing in a way. Reassuring. And wasn't that unexpected?

 

* * *

 

They remained in silence for nearly half an hour, with Miss Goldstein pouring over her books as he sat and waited on a small cot in the furthest corner of the room. His nose told him that someone regularly slept here, young and male. Probably the shy apprentice he’d met at dinner the night before.

He rested his head against the wall, eyes closed and taking deep, relaxing breaths. Her wonderful scent was carried to him through the air. _Dewy meadows. Fresh greens._ _Home. Safe._ His eyes snapped open in shock. What?

The beast snickered. _Why else did you think we ended up here tonight?_

Newt closed his eyes again, resolutely ignoring anything his instincts tried to tell him. She was not for him and never would be. Her choice lay elsewhere. The snickering only intensified. 

“Hungry?”

His eyes blinked open again to find her no longer entranced with writing but staring right at him. He cleared his throat. “Sorry, what?”

A smile. “Are you hungry, Mr. Scamander?”

_Starving_ , his inner companion provided, even though he’d just decided they were no longer on speaking terms. Newt took the less desperate approach. “I think I might have missed dinner by an hour or two.” Again. Not to mention lunch. He’d been too busy sleeping off his thought-induced headache.

Tina chuckled. “Well, I’ve got a sandwich to share, if you’re interested.”

He had the decency to blush when his stomach growled loudly in answer. This was turning into a rather embarrassing recurring theme for him. 

“So, what was all that about earlier?” she questioned him, eyes twinkling in the warm lamp light. “Or is it a habit of yours to just randomly break into tailor shops with a tail on you?”

Newt chuckled at her over one half of the sandwich – cheese on rye. “I had an unfortunate run-in with your local law enforcement.” She raised her eyebrow in question. “Circumstantial evidence led them to believe I committed a crime, which I did not.”

A hum. “Technically, you did enter here with no permission.”

Newt rolled his eyes. “Well, that is hardly the same.” He hadn’t had any ill-intentions coming here and he’d asked for permission to stay after the fact. “They found me just around the corner from a robbed jewellery shop, you see. Apparently that was evidence enough for them.”

She grinned. “And did you do it?”

Newt couldn’t help the snort. “Do I really look like a common thief to you?”

“Not with that coat, no.” She eyed said coat where it rested next to him on the cot. “That’s a rather bold colour for someone who doesn’t like his suspenders _gaudy_.”

Interestingly, neither he nor his inner wolf had a reply to that as his gaze dropped to the garment in question. He _did_ prefer to not stand out on a any normal given day... and his choice of clothing reflected that to an extent. But as for his winter coat... he'd taken a liking to the colour the moment he had laid eyes on it. It was different from everyone around him, if only subtly. Just like he was. And it was a pleasant fabric to wear.

“It suits you, though," she continued softly. "The colour and the cut.”

Newt glanced at her, finding her smiling at him. He wasn’t sure if that had been her professional opinion or a compliment... and wasn't willing to make his bets on either. He didn't entirely trust his instinct around her anymore. 

“So, what were you doing out in the jewellery district anyway?” She smirked. “And at this _suspicious_ time of night, too?”

“I’m looking for someone,” he finally confessed, after having wolfed down the last of his meal – pun fully intended. “And the police can’t help, before you ask. It’s complicated. Family business.”

“Hm. And here I thought you were just in town to wait for your boat to South America.”

Newt chuckled. “I _am_ waiting for my boat to South America.” Even though it didn’t seem likely he’d make the one leaving on Monday. He still wasn’t any closer to finding Grindelwald, much less taking care of the problem he posed. “But this man... he’s hurt people, you see. And he’s out to harm even more. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind to see cities burn if it could help him reach his goal.”

“And that is?”

Newt stayed silent. He’d said too much already. What was it with him and his big mouth these days? First the baker, now the shop girl. If he wasn’t careful _he_ would be the one to expose his kind to humans, not Grindelwald.

“Well, that guy sounds like a real troublemaker.” She frowned. “When you say family, I hope you don’t mean a _gang_ , I hope. Please tell me you're not with the mob.”

“No,” he chuckled. The people he talked about only fell under a rather loose definition of family, but mob wasn't fitting either. Certainly not _the_ mob. “No gangs, no thievery. I’m not a criminal, Miss Goldstein.”

Silence stretched out between them. To her at least, while Newt listened intently for any more signs of his pursuers. The police could be a rather hard lot to shake sometimes, but so far they hadn't doubled back again. He was only glad they hadn’t brought any dogs on their hunt... that would certainly have made his escape a little harder.

Tina took a deep breath that slowly turned into a sigh on her exhale. “I know a thing or two about family business, you know. Especially complicated ones.”

Newt hummed in sympathy, though he doubted her experiences were applicable in his situation. But he felt the urge to inquire nonetheless. “You do?”

“Uh huh. You broke into mine earlier.”

Newt stared at her. “You own this place?”

“Me and my sister, yes.” Tina huffed a laugh. “For now at least.”

And then it clicked. Mendel Goldstein it said out front. Tina Goldstein… It must have been her father’s shop since, in his limited experience, women rarely went ahead into the field of men’s tailoring by themselves. It just wasn’t… very appropriate. 

“I thought you were a shop assistant here,” he admitted with a chuckle.

Tina smiled ruefully from her place by the desk. “If only… I’d have far less things to worry about.”

Newt nodded. He’d sensed the frustration on her as she had poured over the books earlier. All the dust settling on the fabrics above them. Only few pieces of garments hung overhead, in various stages of completion. And the distinct lack of other scents in the front room. Business did not seem to go well for the sisters. “I see.”

She snarled. “New bills come in every week, but then some of our customers don’t pay their dues. And those who do tend to move on to the new fancy department stores in the city.” He could actually hear her grind her teeth together in irritation. “Sorry, I don’t – I didn’t mean to unload all this on you.”

Tina suddenly looked anywhere but at him, anxiety coming off her in little waves. The beast inside him howled to do something about it, to make her feel better. 

“It’s okay,” he clumsily tried to sooth her. “That _does_ sound like a rather complicated business.”

She chuckled darkly. “Told you so.”

“How long–?”

He tensed when another set of feet approached the back door, this one staggering and off-balance. Not the police, but something was off. A whimper, human and suffering, reached his ears, followed by a louder cry and then… the scent of his own kind reached his nose. Wolf, but not the one he’d been looking for.

He jumped up and hurried over to the door. This one smelled just like the cot he’d been resting on earlier. “Tina… who usually sleeps over there?”

A frown of confusion. “Credence. He’s been kicked out by his mother, so he–”

The apprentice. So he’d been right, someone _had_ been bitten here in the alley. He threw the door open to find the narrow way empty, though. Only a few pieces of fabric, some ripped in places, marked the spot where the boy had changed.

Newt cursed and ran out into the night, following the scent of the freshly turned werewolf… and the shocked screams of the unsuspecting pedestrians he left in his wake as he ran.

 

* * *

 

The boy, for he was barely older than that, crouched in a dark corner by the subway rails, shaking heavily and sweating after the exertion of his rampage. He obviously had no control whatsoever over his new abilities. And how could he, with no one to guide him through it?

“Credence. It’s Credence, right?”

A slight nod. Newt crouched down to be level with him. There was no reason to trigger his confused instincts again by seeming too threatening. It would only result in another unwanted change, probably followed by another exposing chase around the city.

“I’m Newt. Do you remember me from last night?“ Credence didn’t answer, but his eyes begged him for help. “Can I come over to you?”

Newt slowly took a step forward. He could sense the boy’s fear, smell it all around him. It made his own animal impulses flare up as the hair at the back of his neck stood on end. He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly to calm down. Nothing to fear here.

The young one copied him on instinct.

“Yes, keep breathing,” he encouraged him. “Calm and slow. That’s it.”

“What’s happening to me?” Credence whispered after a few more breaths. “I don‘t–. What’s happening?”

“You’re changing.” Newt only too well remembered the confusion of the first time… the enhanced senses, mind and instinct warring inside you, the loss of control when the other side took over unchecked. Learning to control it had been the hardest part to deal with.

“Changing?”

Newt nodded. “Who bit you, Credence?”

“Bit me?”

“Was it someone you know?”

“There was a dog… a few days ago.” He help up his arm, only to find the wound healed by now. They always were gone by the time the transition had completed, when they turned for the first time.

“A dog, Credence? One with shaggy tan fur, dissimilar eyes… a bit of a temper?” The boy slowly nodded and Newt sighed. He’d been too slow then. Grindelwald was most likely already on his way to seek exposure elsewhere. Even if he hadn’t found a single clue to his departure, the man never stuck around to see his victims become wolves.

“What am I?” The boy started shaking again and Newt sensed that another shift was imminent. The animal side was close to winning the battle inside his head again.

“You’re like me now, Credence. A werewolf. Man and beast. You can feel it under your skin, can’t you?”

His attention drifted for a moment as he heard a set of feet approaching not too far away. Tina, he realised and tensed. How had she found them? The young one had noticed her too. “Don’t be afraid, it’s only Tina. She smells different now, doesn't she?”

But Credence was already beginning to change into wolf form before him, crying out in pain and confusion as the animal took over against his will. When highly distressed, the beast tended to take the reins for a bit, a severe form of the fight-or-flight reaction as the wolf was better equipped for both. Newt slowly stood up and maintained eye contact with the small black wolf now in front of him, trying to assert his dominance as the elder, the alpha, the one to follow.

“Don’t run off again, Credence.” Tina was close now. He could smell her and her anxiety clearly. She skidded to a halt on the tracks at the sight of the beast before him.

“Newt!” she called out, clearly worried. At the sound of her voice Credence tensed and dashed off into the dark tunnels.

Newt cursed loudly. He threw his coat and jacket in Tina’s general direction, ripped open his shirt and shifted right before her eyes. He needed to run after the young one and save him from harm, show him he was not alone. A shocked gasp sounded somewhere behind him, but that was something to worry about later.

He would not lose another one. Not again.


	5. Saturday II

Tina remained rooted to the spot, still not willing to believe what her eyes had just witnessed. She really should have headed to bed instead of going over the books again… A wolf? And a man turning into a wolf? That wasn’t possible. Was it?

She shook her head to clear it, but Newt was still gone with only some clothing left behind. It had definitely been a wolf that had wriggled out of those garments. Long snout, brown fur not unlike his hair colour. Cautiously she took a step forward and reached for the discarded blue coat. It was still warm from wear.

She reacted on instinct when her ears picked up on loudly clattering footsteps coming towards her. The policemen came into view just as she’s climbed back up onto the platform. One of the officers stopped short seeing her. “Ma’am! Have you seen where it’s gone?”

She opened her mouth to point them in the right direction, but something deep inside her yelled out in protest. _Protect them!_ She swallowed, shakily raising her hand.

“That way, officer.” She pointed to the tunnel up north, doing her best impression of a completely shocked woman. The group of officers took off in pursuit. “What – What was that?”

The man didn’t look too happy at the question. “We’re not sure yet. Something must’ve escaped the zoo. Please, make your way home, miss. It’s not safe out here.”

Tina drew the too big coat in vibrant blue a little tighter around herself. “Yes, of course.”

Slowly, she moved towards the southern exit, watching the last of the policemen run off into the wrong direction. Had she really just lied to law enforcement on a whim? For all she knew that beast could be a danger to the city, no matter how unconcerned Newt had seemed. But then again… he was a beast himself, wasn’t he?

Her head started spinning at that train of thought. He didn’t seem dangerous when he’d sat at her table just a day ago, or sharing her sandwich in the workroom earlier. Quite the opposite. Strangely, she really trusted that man, even if she had known him for only a little while.

She jumped back down onto the tracks and picked up Newt’s remaining clothes. Most of it still seemed intact, apart from a few buttons here or there. She rolled them up into a bundle and then… just kept walking into the direction the wolves had vanished. Apparent danger be damned, she needed to know what was going on.

It wasn’t long before she picked up echoes of a voice that quickly turned into the familiar lilt of Newt Scamander.

“You’re overwhelmed now, I know. But it will get better.” A sad, high-pitched whimper followed.

“The noise won’t be as sharp when you turn back. I know you can do it, Credence.”

Tina gasped. Credence? He couldn’t possibly mean that… but then she remembered a similar bundle of shed clothing just outside the back door. Grey and black, just like Credence’s suit when he’d left to visit his sister that afternoon.

“Tina is coming now, can you pick up on her scent?” More whimpering, paws digging away on gravel. And then she saw them, just around the next bend of the tunnel.

“Stay back,” Newt ordered as she tried to approach. “And please try to calm down, Tina. I can sense your fear from here. So can he.”

Tina huffed but stayed put. Calm down… what did he suggest she do instead? There was a wolf right there. And whatever the Brit himself would turn into on a whim.

“I won’t hurt you,” he continued as if reading her thoughts, still not letting his gaze drift from the black beast in front of him. “And neither will he. He’s not all in control just yet… but I won’t let him attack you, Tina. Please, trust me. You have nothing to be afraid of.”

She was about to retort when a small but distracting detail caught her eye. Newt, still crouching low before the whimpering wolf, was as bare as the day he’d been born. A little snort escaped her as she tried to stifle the laugh, then quickly turned to look elsewhere. She should have guessed as much… seeing as she carried all of his layers under her arm.

“I got your clothes,” she finally got out, still chuckling. “In case you wanna cover up again.”

His reply was cut short as the wolf’s whining suddenly turned into a loud cry. Credence’s voice sounded behind her, low but frantic. “Please, make it stop! Make it stop.”

Tina whipped around in shock. “What–?”

“Shhh.” Newt gestured for her to shut it before turning his focus back. “You’re all right, Credence. No one here is going to hurt you. Hold that in mind, it helps keep the beast calm and manageable.”

The boy shook his head, tears streaming down his face as he obviously struggled with something. He, too, was bare. And a wolf, just like the man before him. A flame of anger flared up inside her. ”What did you do to him?!” she hissed. 

“That wasn’t me, Tina. You know it wasn’t.” Strangely she believed him, even if her evidence so far said the opposite. But how exactly she knew that was a mystery to her. _He wouldn’t hurt anyone_ , a little voice whispered in her mind... and that was that.

“We need to get moving,” Newt observed, tilting his head while peering into the darkness behind her. “I don’t think your diversion will keep the police off our backs for much longer, Tina. Could you please–?” He gestured toward the bundle under her arm, an embarrassed smile on his lips. “We can’t exactly walk through the streets as we are.”

As much as she had _enjoyed_ the view he's given her, Newt was right. She threw him the bundle of fabric and pointedly turned her back, giving them some privacy. 

 

* * *

 

They slipped back into the building without anyone taking notice. She had lent Credence her long grey coat, covering the fact that he did not have any trousers or shoes to wear. Newt had insisted she continued wearing his instead, content in only his suit and shoes despite the cold December night. They must have looked like a right mess as they made their way through the tunnels to the next station, and from there on up into the streets.

Credence was still shaking like a leaf between them, jumping at every sound, shying away from any passing person despite Newts soothing whispers. It set her own teeth on edge, made her jumpy and agitated, and she was glad to finally have everyone back within the walls of her home. They moved his cot down into the basement on Newt’s insistence, where Credence swiftly burrowed into a growing pile of pillows, blankets and old fabrics. He had fallen into an exhausted sleep before she had returned with the promised cup of tea.

Newt was settled down against the wall across from him and gladly took the hot drink she now silently offered him instead. “I’ll stay with him," he explained after a sip. "He’ll probably go through another episode like that when he wakes up to realise it wasn’t just a bad dream.”

It had been her dismissal, she knew, but Tina firmly remained standing in the doorway. She would not take orders in her own house... not as long as it was still hers, at least. And Newt didn’t seem to mind her company too much either. Both their gazes were trained on the bundle that was Credence. 

“Thank you for helping us get away,” he whispered after a few more moments, and another sip of her tea. “The police… they’re not very friendly to people like us. No matter what form we’re in.”

“What are you?” she asked, finally voicing the question that had been on her mind for what felt like hours now. The thing she couldn't find an answer to on her own. “And what happened to him?”

Newt looked up at her and gave her a humourless smile. “I'm a werewolf: half man, half beast. And so is your apprentice.”

Werewolf. Tina swallowed, remembering some of the legends she had read in her books... too long ago now. “Did you do–?”

“No!” He shook his head vehemently. “No. I came here to find the one who did this to him, stop him.” He looked at Credence again. “I was too late for that, but at least I managed to save his victim from a bullet.”

A sigh followed and he drowned his apparent sorrows in the last of his tea. “We need to get out of the city. The noise, the stench, the number of people… it’s overwhelming and not helping him learn to control this.”

“What noise?” It seemed almost perfectly calm down here and as for the smell… well, you couldn’t expect much better from a coal cellar.

Newt shook his head, chuckling. “We’re part wolf, Ti– Miss Goldstein. Our senses are beyond those of humans. What you hear, I can hear about twice as loud even in human form, what you smell I picked up on twenty paces away. And it’s even worse for Credence… I’m used to it by now, but he’s only just transitioned.”

Oh. So that was why Credence had shied away from people and noises all the way home. Enhanced senses. And he pile of fabrics and being underground must block at least some of the sounds out. "I see."

"Don't worry, Miss Goldstein. We'll be out of your hair as soon as Credence has had a bit of rest."

“Call me Tina, please.” She bit her lip, unsure why it bothered her so. It felt just wrong to return to formalities after… after he’d already called her by her name. He frowned at her but nodded, then focussed back on the cot across the room, where Credence began to twitch under his heap of fabric. Newt didn't look worried about it, though.

“How did this happen?” she wondered.

“A bite.” Newt grumbled. “You wouldn’t accidentally go near a wolf, usually. This one, though… he looks more like a dog, really. You’d think it was just some mongrel snapping at you, and… a few days later this happens.”

Tina swallowed heavily. _A dog bite?_

“How would you know if–?”

The man chuckled darkly, resigned. “That's the thing: You don’t. It’s a subtle transition, really. Your instincts become more and more pronounced until one day not long after… they just take over in a bad situation. That’s when you turn wolf and the hard part begins.”

Instincts taking over… the same was happening in her, now that she started to think about it. A dog bite. A few days. She had the impulse to just curl up under the same pile of fabric as Credence, hiding away from the world in hopes of hiding from the truth. The same _thing_ that had bitten Credence had also bitten her. _A thing that looks like a dog._

“Looked,” she unthinkingly corrected her own thought, still in shock over these new revelations. Her heart beat like a war drum, blood pulsing loudly in her ears.

Newt turned to look up at her, brows drawn together in confusion. “Excuse me?”

“It– He _looked_ like a dog.” Newt's gaze bored into her and Tina averted her eyes as she confessed. “Died like one, too.” Her words came slow, but she was unable to stop them.

The man jumped up and advanced on her, suddenly looking far more threatening than she’d ever seen him as he crowded her against the wall. “Died?” he hissed, only barely avoiding to bare his teeth.

Tina gulped and nodded, watching him intently for further signs of aggression. “Jim shot him dead after– ” Her leg twinged. “–after he sank his teeth into me.” At least she knew that beast wouldn’t do this to anyone else again.

“Sank his–" His face contorted, all fight suddenly gone. "Show me!” he gasped, looking at her imploringly.

As if in a trance, she slowly moved to peel off her boot and stocking, letting the man have a look at the bite on her calf. He fell to his knees in front of her, gently feeling around the wound and mustering the mostly-healed parts intently. “When did this happen, Tina?”

“Wednesday afternoon.” 

His eyes suddenly shot up to fix on her. “And that’s when he shot him?”

Tina nodded. She’d tried to shoo the beast away, not wanting it anywhere near again after it had bitten Credence just the day before. He had only wanted to share some of his lunch with the poor creature. But the thing had snapped at her after she’d kicked a pebble in its direction. She still remembered the pain where it had sunk its teeth into her leg in retaliation, the scream it had wrung out of her. And that’s when Jim had appeared behind her, pointing her father’s old revolver at the beast and pulling the trigger for a perfect shot between the eyes.

“Like I said,” she finished with a trembling breath. “He died like the dog he pretended to be.”

Newt’s reaction was not what she had expected.

 

* * *

 

He couldn’t help but laugh, grave as the situation was with one transitioned wolf behind him and one soon-to-be werewolf in front. He tried desperately to keep it in as she told her story, but ultimately failed. Unstoppable amusement wracked through him, shaking his whole body as he let his head rest against her. It felt like a small eternity until he’d finally calmed down again, laughter fading to silent chuckles.

This was just too absurd.

“I’ve spent _months_ chasing after him, you know,” he whispered, shaking his head against her hip. “Four days of scouring this city to find the guy and here you are… telling me you ended him the very day I arrived in New York!” Another laugh at the absurdity of it. “And I was sleeping when it happened!”

A deep sigh followed his confession. If only he had known… he could have had at least three days of rest before dealing with the fallout of Grindelwald’s last actions. He’d bitten the boy, then he’d bitten Tina the day after. There probably were other victims to look out for as well. But the underlying problem, the man himself, had been taken care of for him.

It was a relief beyond measure. It was a deep disappointment. His inner beast sputtered at the notion that sweet revenge had been taken from him and dealt by another... a human! But it helped to think that it had happened in defence of _her_. Even if it had been too late already.

Tina. His lovely Miss Springtime, now bound to share the same fate as he.

Newt only slowly realised how close he was to her, taking in her soothing scent with every deep breath. Inappropriately close, his rational side proclaimed, but he could not find it in himself to care as long as she didn’t protest. He felt more calm here, home, safe… content. Everything he’d tried so hard to ignore only earlier this evening. Finally it made sense. What a fool he had been.

His hand still cradled her leg and slowly he tilted his head down to have another look at the bite marring the side of her calf. It wouldn’t take long now to heal up completely, vanish from sight. And then… she would be a werewolf herself. A shiver ran down his spine as he tried to keep his beast from howling in delight. Sharing the same affliction didn't mean she'd also share his life.

“Newt.” He let go of her immediately, though it was still too hard to move away from her entirely.

He swallowed. “Sorry, I–”

“Will I change, too?”

He nodded, head still resting against her hip with eyes closed now. The question did not come as a surprise. “Yes. Maybe tomorrow, maybe the day after. It never takes more than five days though.”

“Oh.” Across the room Credence stirred beneath his heap of blankets. Dreaming, but not waking yet. A reaction to the anxiety Tina was giving off again… understandably so. This couldn't be happy news for her.

"I'm here, Tina. I'll–" Newt swallowed and finally broke away from her, getting up to move this conversation out of the room and put some much needed distance between them. He closed the door to the coal cellar behind her and gestured for Tina to sit on the narrow stairs, not wanting to move too far away from Credence either. “Anything you want to know, Tina. Please, just ask.”

She nodded, face still pale from the shock as teeth worried her lips. “Will it be painful?” she finally asked.

Newt sighed. Of course she chose that question to begin with. “Only in the beginning, it won't be when you stop fighting it. Yourself." Which was one of the hardest things, really. "I’ve been told the change easier when you know it’s coming. I wouldn’t know, though; I became this the same way you and Credence did.”

She looked up at him. “Same… wolf?”

He nodded, temper flaring up for a moment. “The very same.”

“When?”

Newt swallowed. This wasn’t what he’d meant by _anything you want to know_ … but he didn’t feel like keeping it from her either. Not from _her_ , no matter how much he dreaded drudging up those memories. “During the war. I was in France when it happened. Didn’t think much of it, animals were just as terrified as humans so close to the front lines. But five days later…” He shrugged. “I ran off, as far away from those god-forsaken trenches as I possibly could. I was lucky, though. My commanding officer was of the same affliction – born and not bitten. He came after me immediately, helped me calm down and figure it out. Taught me how to control it, too. And how to use it for my advantage.”

He never officially joined the pack of the Dumbledore family, but they were willing enough to accept him among their ranks when he felt like running with his own kind for a change. Not that _that_ happened often.

"That's–" She didn't finish her sentence, but the slight tone of sympathy in her voice was enough for him to know what she couldn't put in words. "How did your family take it?" 

Newt sighed, arms crossed in front of his chest to keep himself together. “My parents often say that I returned from war a deeply changed man. They have no idea how right they are and I’d rather keep it that way.” He grimaced, remembering his last visit to his family. “It’s bad enough that none of the horses will come near me whenever I visit. I couldn’t take the same from them.”

Tina stayed silent, frowning. "I'm not the most sociable kind of person, Tina, or easily trusting. Never have been, really. I'm sure your own experiences will be different." 

“My sister...” She gave a sigh. “I don’t know if I could tell her. _Should_ tell her. But I don’t know if I could keep it from her either.”

Something told him she couldn't... not with how close they seemed to be to begin with, and Mr. Kowalski in the picture. The baker would know the moment he first saw Tina after her transition. But they struck him to be of a quite accepting mindset. “What about your–?”

She raised her eyebrow in question when Newt didn’t know how go on. “Mr. Graves," he finally settled, still unsure what he was to her. "You two seemed very familiar with each other.”

Even in the half dark down here he could see the blush rising up her cheeks. “He’s… nothing. A good customer of the shop.”

_Told you so_ , the beast inside him boasted. _He won't be in your way._ Newt ignored the comment, but couldn’t help a small smile at her words. "I see."

“At least he can’t be any more than that,” she continued in a whisper. “And I wasn’t sure I ever wanted him to, no matter the advantages. It’s not like his money would have helped this place for long, not with the cheap competition.” She suddenly grumbled, giving him an accusing look. “And I have no idea why I am even telling you all this! Again!”

Newt had an inkling, but he merely offered her a smile. “You should go to bed. It’s late, and you’ve had a very eventful night...”

“Yeah.” She nodded. “I think I will." She got up and moved a few steps up the stairs before turning back to him. “You'll look after Credence? He doesn’t really have anyone but us to do so.”

Newt nodded, his inner wolf in complete agreement for once. “I’ll be with him, don't worry."

"And–" He could see her worry her lip again. "–you'll... still be here in the morning?"

"Of course, Tina!" He took a step closer and reached for her arm, following his need to calm her returned anxiety. Their eyes locked in the half-dark of the narrow stairs. "I'm not leaving you." _Either of you_ , but that part conveniently stuck in his throat for some reason.

She nodded, giving him a relieved smile. "Good night, Newt.”

“Good night, Tina. Sleep well.”

He watched her disappear up the stairs and listened until a door clicked shut two stories above him before returning into the coal cellar. Currently Credence was in a deep sleep, fitful as it was, but come morning that would change. Come morning, he'd start into a new kind of apprenticeship... with Newt, of all people, as the master to teach him. He sighed and settled back down at his post by the door. 

If this was supposed to succeed, they needed to take the earliest opportunity to get out of the city and somewhere more remote in the countryside. And Tina with them. She was already giving in her instinctive side, if her behaviour tonight was anything to go by... and her bite was almost healed. She most likely wouldn’t make it to Monday morning unchanged.


	6. Sunday

Sitting up against a wall was not the best position to fall asleep in as Newt Scamander relearned the next morning. He woke up groggy and with a severe crick in his neck, feeling unable to open his eyes just yet. A warm but heavy head rested on his thigh, with an even warmer body curled up next to him. He smiled and petted the wolf’s neck. Credence must have coped better with his third change than the first two.

“Morning,” he mumbled tiredly and got a sleepy whine in return.

It was already late in the morning and a sewing machine rattled away overhead to someone humming a tune. Queenie, if he had to take a guess. Another set of feet walked across the floor, this one heavier and agitated.

“What do you mean she’s _gone_?” He’d met Jim Abernathy only briefly, but his voice was too unpleasant to forget. “She can’t be out of town for a few days. She’s meeting Graves tomorrow!”

The tune stopped and Newt frowned as he listened in more closely. Tina was gone?

“She can and she is. And it’s about time she starts thinking ‘bout herself, too, honey. Here, have a look at the job ads for a change, will ya?”

“What?”

“She’s not gonna throw herself at Graves for your convenience, Jimmy. You’ll need to look for another position cause _Goldstein’s_ won’t be in business any more come next year.”

Angry steps across the floor, followed by the loud bang of a door. A startled yelp across the room.

“I’m up, I’m– What?”

Newt’s eyes shot open to find Credence still sitting up on the cot, his heap of blankets thrown off to the side as he had startled awake. He looked just as unsure and confused as Newt was. It took him a moment before finally dared to glance down.

“Oh.” Snuggled up next to him lay a grey-white wolf, lithe and with long legs tucked close as her head rested on his leg. So her wonderful scent wasn’t just a left-over in the air from last night. She was here. She was... wolf. “Tina.”

Her change had happened even sooner than he’d expected, barely four days after the bite. And she’d been all by herself for it. Somehow she had made her way down here, though, no doubt following her nose and instincts to find her own kind. There was a whine as he stopped his strokes and dark brown eyes blinked up at him demandingly. Well, who was he to say no? 

"So much for me being there for you," he sighed as guilt started to gnaw on him. He really shouldn't have sent her upstairs last night. 

The humming above continued after a while, as did the rattling of the sewing machine. Somewhere near by a church bell rang loudly. Credence grimaced at the deep, rumbling sound and covered his ears.

“It’s okay to go back and hide, Credence. The enhanced senses are hard to get used to, I know.” The boy nodded and quickly hid back underneath his pile of fabric. Tina merely flicked her ears and burrowed closer into him. A nearly imperceptible shudder went through her body, though.

“You had a talk with your sister, I assume,” he whispered to distract her, mindful of both their ears. “She just fired Mr. Abernathy, more or less.”

A low huff came from her, followed by a yawn. Newt chuckled. “Yeah, why am I even telling you that. You just heard it yourself.” He scratched her head. “Did she see you like this?”

“Is that… Miss Tina?” Credence still seemed to be in shock, staring at both him and the wolf in his lap with wide eyes from beneath the pile. Other than that he seemed to do remarkably well this morning, though. 

Newt nodded. “Yes, it is.”

“Oh. She got bitten by the same thing I did.”

“Yes." Newt gave him a small smile. "She was the last one, though, so that is good news.”

The boy nodded but shortly after began to shudder, causing the towering heap of fabrics to wobble with him. 

“What is it, Credence?” 

“I – I didn’t mean for her to–”

“I know. It wasn’t your fault, and she would tell you so herself if she could right now.” Tina turned and whined, deep brown eyes now fixed on Credence… who strangely seemed to calm from this. At least the shaking subsided again.

Newt sighed. “I need to go out and see if there are any other people infected and changed. And then I have to get you both out of this city, somewhere quieter and less…”

“Stinking?” The word was more of a disgusted hiss from the boy.

He chuckled. “Yes. New York is particularly bad, I have to say.”

The wolf in his lap huffed, causing Newt to chuckle. He looked at her and frowned. As much as he and his own inner beast enjoyed being so close to her, he should probably try and guide Tina through the change back to human form. He’d indulged his own wants and instincts for far too long already. Maybe there might be a chance for more of this when she wasn’t acting on impulse any more. 

Maybe. He sighed. “Would you mind throwing me one of those blankets, Credence?”

She wasn't his. Likely never would be. She deserved better than the likes of him, werewolf or not. A balled up blanket hit him square in the face, but right now Newt didn’t mind the distraction. “Right. Let’s see if we can talk you into changing back, hm?”

He had barely put the woollen blanket over her for modesty before the grey fur began to change back into human skin. Then the Tina he knew groaned and shook herself next to him.

“No need to talk me into anything,” she mumbled, pulling the blanket closer around her as she moved to put some small distance between them.

Newt stared at her in shock. “How…?”

“You were right. About knowing what was coming.” She shivered, obviously still battling with her new-found other side. “But I gotta say, this wolf thing _will_ take some getting used to.”

He smiled, astounded by her apparent control of the situation. Her eyes left him and wandered over to the other side of the room. “How are you, Credence?”

It took him a while to answer. “Still… holding on for now.”

“You’re doing very good.” His encouragements were uttered at the same time as hers were, word for word identical. They shared a look of surprise before Newt averted his eyes, unsure of what was happening here.

He finally got up to stretch his legs, his back, his neck. “I uhm. I should go and see if anyone else is out there.”

Tina nodded. “Don’t worry, you can go up. Queenie… She knows.”

“You told her?”

She bit her lip and looked away. “I changed right in front of her, last night when she wanted to talk some sense into me. That... needed some explaining.” A long exhale. “She took it well enough though. And she knows a place we can go to, away from the city.”

“Good.” One less thing to worry about today. He gestured to the door. “Then I’ll–”

Tina chuckled. “You might wanna get changed before you head into the city, Newt.”

“Oh.” He looked down at himself, belatedly realising that he indeed was in nothing but his trousers and suit jacket. He pulled the garment shut, feeling the sudden need to cover up before her. His scars were hideous to look at, he knew, no need to repel her even more. 

At the top of the stairs he found his coat, hanging over the back of a chair. Newt smiled as he wrapped himself into it and buried his nose in the collar for a quiet moment. The fabric still smelled of her from when she had worn it. 

“Morning, honey!” Queenie greeted him with a grin, widening even more as he blushed with being caught in the act. No fear was on her, though she mustered him curiously for a long moment. “So, how are they?”

“They’re doing… well, Miss Goldstein.” He frowned, cleared his throat as he remembered their current stated. “Both could do with something light to eat, though. And something to wear, I think.”

As did he. A trip to his hotel should be first thing on his agenda... what little respectable clothing he was still wearing was now covered in light wolf fur. He seemed to have tina all over him this morning. 

The younger sister smiled and patted the work bench before her. “Already on it, Mr. Scamander.”

It took him a moment before he recognised the skirt Tina had worn the night before, apparently split at the seam. Newt bit his lips. That first change must have been rough... and so unexpected.

 

* * *

 

It was mid afternoon by the time he’d returned from his errands. He’d changed and packed up his belongings at the hotel, then took a walk through the city to see if anything else had happened last night. But thankfully, no one had turned wolf just yet. He’d managed to track down Ralph, though, to give him an update on the situation and an order to keep a look out for any young ones in his city. The man would send word to _Goldstein’s_ if he found anything at all. The less wolves in his city, he reasoned, the less attention from whoever he was in hiding from. 

Tina had ventured up into the workroom when he finally stepped back into the now familiar tailor shop. She was huddled into a corner, doing her best not to twitch at every sound making it through the walls around her.

“What are you doing up here, Tina?” She looked miserable, but held on nonetheless. A strong-willed woman if he ever saw one.

“Giving Credence some time to himself. He needs it, even though he won’t ask for it.” Newt nodded in understanding before Tina went on. “Find anyone else out there?”

“No, but I arranged for someone to be on the lookout while we’re gone.”

She lowered her gaze to his hands. “You got your suitcase, I see.”

“Yes. And you two better pack a few things as well. I’m not sure that you want to come back here once you’re… used to the open space.”

She chuckled and nodded towards something to his left. “Believe it or not, my sister has already taken care of that.”

Ah. There were indeed two suitcases standing by the back door, packed and ready to go. She was taking this all remarkably well. _A bit too well_ , his instincts supplied as he watched her busying herself with some handiwork. He’d never heard of a bitten werewolf adjusting so quickly to the new situation.

“Tina…”

She huffed, pinching a needle through some fabric with more force than strictly necessary. “I’m okay, Newt. Quit worrying, I can smell that now.”

Newt chuckled softly. “Do you blame me? Your whole life just got… much more complicated.”

She scoffed, continuing to sew a button onto a shirt. “It really didn’t. And this is for the better in a way. My sister’s got Jacob to look after her, Jim’s probably found work somewhere else by the time he gets in tomorrow. And this place–” She looked around, resigned. “–was more of a burden than a blessing anyway. It won’t bring my parents back, no matter how much I cling to it. Time to let it go and move on.”

He watched her closely, as she stabbed her needle through the fabric again. Agitated, but not dangerously so yet. He had a feeling that asking her to calm down would not go down well, though.

“Especially since I can’t seem to stand the scent of my best customer any more!” she chuckled wryly. “Never even knew he smoked, but it’s all over the suits he tried on Friday. If I hadn’t already put my mind off him before, the date tomorrow is _definitely_ off the table now. I can’t even go near that rack over there.” She nodded towards the row of suits and shirts on the other side of the room, probably Mr. Graves’ last order.

His inner companion preened at her words, but Newt did his best not to let it show. He tamped his instincts down. One man denied didn’t mean his prospects had gotten any better, and no amount of wishful thinking would change that. Just because he felt so drawn to her didn't mean she had the same urge.

“What’s going on with you?” she questioned, sniffing once more. “You’re all… confusing.”

Newt took a deep breath, calming himself. “Sorry, lots to think about.” Something else caught his eye in that moment. “Is that _my_ shirt you’re working on?”

A rosy blush bloomed on her cheeks as she nodded. “I hope you don’t mind, I wanted to keep busy.”

He smiled. “I don’t, but I can finish the rest of those myself, you know?” He certainly had some experience with sewing buttons back on.

He moved closer to take the shirt from her, but she clutched it tightly, unwilling to relinquish the garment to him. “It’s okay, I’m almost done anyway.”

He only now realised how badly she actually was shaking, fighting to keep in control. He took a seat beside her then, intent on soothing her. “I know it’s overwhelming right now. But you’ll get used to those senses, Tina.”

She took a deep breath, calming instantly, and shook her head. “It’s not that...”

“That other part as well. It takes time learning to control those impulses again, to not change unwillingly… but you’re doing really well already.”

She snorted. “I only barely avoided panicking like Credence did, because–” She stopped herself, glancing at him nervously before focussing back on her needle.

“Yeah, but that made all the difference, didn’t it?” A shiver went through him as he thought of the alternative… Tina running away in a panic, causing havoc in the streets of New York. No one out there to help guide her back because he was stuck dozing in a cellar beneath her house. That could have ended so much worse.

“It wasn’t just knowing what was coming.”

Her voice was barely a whisper and even Newt had a hard time hearing it. The nervousness and anxiety on her were hard to miss, though.

“Newt–” Another short glance before she abruptly looked away. “–why do you smell so… so…?”

She seemed lost for words, shoulders slumping. 

“… Appealing?” It was a tentative, yet hopeful guess. One he hadn’t meant to utter out loud but that found its way past his lips anyway. 

He held his breath, waiting for her inevitable response. She was still the lovely Miss Springtime and Wilderness to him, that part of her had not changed even after her transformation. And the newly added component of werewolf did absolutely nothing to put him off, either. Quite the opposite, if his even stronger pull towards her was anything to go by. 

Tina slowly nodded. “Yeah, that. I–” She bit her lip. “I smelled it all over the living room and… and somehow I knew there was nothing to be afraid of? The scent led me straight to you when I finally followed it.”

Newt breathed a sigh of relief upon hearing her words. A smile stole itself over his face. “I’ve been wondering that myself, to be honest. Since I first walked into your shop, really. Good to know it’s not just me, though.”

“But what does it mean?” A wide-eyed questioning gaze met his. 

He shrugged, focussing his eyes on a piece of white thread that had fallen to the floor between them as a blush stole itself over his cheeks. He only had a hunch himself and desperately wished to have put more time into researching his own kind when he had the chance.

“What does your instinct tell you?” he asked instead. 

Tina sighed, then slowly closed the gap between them and rested her head on his shoulder. His arms found its way around her back immediately, instinctively. 

“To keep close to you,” she whispered and inhaled deeply. Taking in his scent, he realised. 

Newt nodded, another smile pulling at his lips. "Yes, so does mine."

She gradually relaxed in his arms, much as a previously unregistered tension in himself seemed to slowly dissolve. Her scent washed over him, leaving a heady sensation behind. _Mine_ , it sounded somewhere deep inside him. For once Newt was inclined to agree. 

She only burrowed closer into him. "Would you mind terribly if I did that, Newt?"

He lowered his head, cheek resting against her hair as he held her close. At peace, for the first time in... a very long while. "Not at all. I've got you, Tina."


	7. Epilogue (2 years later)

Her legs carried her as fast as the wind as she ran… and ran and ran across paved roads and wildflower meadows, through small forests and wide parks of grand estates. Tina ran. She followed her nose, guided by her instincts as the moon and stars lit her way.

This was what true freedom felt like. And she was not alone in it.

He ran by her side, only one pace behind but working hard to keep up with her. The russet wolf that had been her first glimpse into this world, who had shown her the way when her own instincts had awakened. Newt. It was only them, roaming the English countryside at full speed as the others had stayed behind for their own gathering, Credence among them. 

Tonight they were a pack of two. 

Tina sped up as the familiar scent of water reached her nose, flying along barely-there trails between trees and shrubbery towards their destination. Newt would find her there, no doubt. And he'd thoroughly enjoy the merry chase she gave him. Already he was several paces behind her as she kept running.

The tranquil lake came into view some minutes later, a dark body of water that glittered with the light of the stars above. Nearly there. Her nose guided her on the last bit of her way, towards the secluded meadow where she finally shifted back into her human form. Tina laid out on the grass, arms crossed behind her head as she caught her breath, waiting for him to join her. 

_What a beautiful night._ The full moon did her best to enhance the charming sights surrounding her, painting the fresh and delicate greens in silvery light and dark shadows. She took a deep breath and smiled to herself. 

It was just the perfect time of the year to come here.

Tina listened closely as her companion made his way through the underbrush, carefully following her trail and the deliberate detour she’d taken even though he knew exactly where she would be headed. He'd slowed down, too. Not to better keep on her trail, she knew, but to savour the chase for just a bit longer. Newt appeared at the edge of the trees two minutes later, grinning widely even before he’d turned back into his human form.

“There you are,” she smirked.

He collapsed next to her into the grass, panting for breath but quite happy about it. It took him a moment to reply. “You are ridiculous.”

She hummed, watching his chest rise and fall as he breathed heavily through a chuckle. “And you love it.”

“You know I do."

Newt Scamander was a bit of a chaser, even if not a particularly skilled one. He enjoyed the tracking and the finding it involved... even though he got so easily sidetracked at times. But at the end of the day, he had managed to catch the one thing he had most desired. And so had she.

"But it’s not the chase itself that I love so much,” he continued in a whisper. He rolled over her in one swift movement, trapping her beneath his body with a wide grin. “It's me following after you, most of all.”

“And that never ceases to amaze me.” She wrapped her arm around his back and smiled, cupping his cheek in her other hand. “ _You_ never cease to amaze me, Fido.”

Smiling, Newt leaned in for a kiss.

He hadn't been thrilled the first time she's called him that. _Fido_. A dog's name, not fit for a wolf even though it was his own. And yet so very fitting in its origin, as he completely trusted and confided in her alone these days. As she completely trusted and confided in him. He didn't mind it so much anymore after she had explained, certainly not when they were alone like this as they had been back then.

“You smell that, love?” Forehead resting against her, he closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, a smile on his lips.

Tina hummed. Fresh water and wet grass, small patches of lilies-of-the-valley in bloom close by. Wilderness, still mostly untouched by humans. Despite the distance to their new home, this was still one of his favourite places to visit. A safe haven for the lone wolf he'd been upon his return from France. A place to hide away in when things got too much for him, now freely shared with her.

“The first breath I got of you,” he whispered and began to nuzzle her neck. A shiver ran down her spine and she pulled him closer. "Your scent was like an oasis for my poor nose... and it's _still_ my favourite.”

A chuckle escaped her. “Like that’s ever going to change.”

He nipped softly at the sensitive spot between her shoulder and neck. “You’re right. It’s rather unlikely.” The smirk so clearly carried in his voice and Tina couldn't help but grin. _Mine._

She’d chosen her mate wisely, all these many months ago, following her instincts rather than her stubborn head. She felt free to be herself with him, understood and cherished. Supported. And any other contestant for that position hadn't stood a chance the moment her inner wolf had awakened, drawing her irrefutably to him and him alone. Fate had gifted her with a Mate. Even if it had taken them a while to work it all out. 

Tina inhaled deeply, taking in that lovely scent that was meant to entice only her. It brought her back to a time she had almost forgotten when they'd first met. Worn leather and wool, golden sunshine on well-read books... and an exciting hint of _adventure_. They had just returned from one of those, travelling through South America for one of Newt's naturalist expeditions. Mr. and Mrs. Scamander with their assistant Credence. Her sister and Jacob had been excited to see them again, as well, for their five day stop-over in New York. 

She exhaled with a low, happy sigh. “Yes, you’re all mine.”

Newt nodded slowly, moving along her neck to whisper in her ear. “And you’re all mine. My mate. My wife. My beautiful Adinah.”

Even her given name sounded different when it came from his lips, less pretentious and more fitting for plain _her_. Or maybe his presence in her life just made her feel that much more significant, that much more important. Newt certainly did his best to show her how important she was to him. 

Tina hummed and moved beneath him, basking in his ardent affections.

He took her hint, a wolfish glint in his eyes.

* * *

They spend all night by the secluded lake, bathing in moonlight, glittering waters and each other. 

And life was perfect.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading and sticking with me through to the end! Let me know what you think, your comments will be very much appreciated.  
> 
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